The Goodbye
by Doodle19
Summary: A missing scene from Lauren. She was alive. That was what mattered. It didn't matter that the world would believe she died and that they'd be forced to live without her. All that mattered was getting goodbye. He could give her that. She wouldn't wake up alone, scared and confused, not if he could help it. Oneshot.


**Found this in my files. It's an older piece of writing, but I said "Hey, why not?" I thought I'd upload it. It's the holiday season and all. Just a oneshot. Hope you enjoy. It's a missing scene from Lauren.**

 **THE GOODBYE**

Everything was arranged. Emily survived the battle and the surgery. She was alive, and within the next few hours, when it was safe to travel, she was going to be airlifted to Bethesda under covert exportation. The very moment that JJ walked through those doors, tears in her eyes, knowing what had to be done and choking out the words, "She never made it off the table…" The moment that happened, the rest of the world lost her and the light that belonged just to her dimmed from their eyes. They were down a beautiful, incredible, talented, and smart women, and they were all at a loss for it.

But he knew the truth. He still had her. And he wouldn't let her disappear without her knowing. He had to see her, if only for the one last time before Emily Prentiss became some unknown, just born identity in some far away land.

The team left in shambles, Hotch stood a passive observer through the glass window of the door as he waited for JJ to come to him. He knew what was coming, but he longed to hear her say it.

"She's going to be ok," the blonde whispered when the door shut. "They managed to control the bleeding and repair the damage."

"That's great. How is she doing? Did you see her? She's not awake yet, is she?"

JJ shook her head. "No. I couldn't see her, but they say she's doing well. They want to make sure she's stable enough to move after the surgery before they can take her."

"How long?"

"Probably within the next few hours. The transport team is already here and ready to take her as soon as she's ready to be moved."

Hotch made the silent decision then, that he wasn't going to let her leave without seeing her. Once the team left the hospital, mourning the death of their friend, he hung back, hoping for the chance to see her.

/

He fought tooth and nail with the team in charge of her care while trying not to make a scene. They were a covert operation meant to be like a ghost. No one, including him, was supposed to be there. And yet, he was. He had to be. He wouldn't forgive himself if he wasn't.

"She's sedated," they told her. "We can't risk it."

But he had to risk it. Could they see that? They had to. No one was around to see, and he couldn't let her wake up alone with strangers at her side telling her life as she knew it was over. That she was dead. In the end, he had to wait, but they agreed to let him fly with them. JJ told the team that he was staying back to handle the remains, but she knew what he was doing, and she wished she could do the same.

It took a full twenty four hours before Emily could come off the ventilator, the anesthesia completely worn off and her body fighting to recover. It was another hour after that before she woke up in a hazy fog.

A nurse was around, checking her vitals as Emily weakly moved about. A nightmare, he could tell. She thought she was still with Doyle, maybe still lying on that warehouse floor bleeding to death.

"You're ok," his voice sounded distant to her, like a mirage she was seeing just to find some comfort in an otherwise desolate, lonely place. "Emily," he coaxed, moving the nurse out of the way, "you're ok."

Voice scratchy and throat dry, Emily feebly asked, "Am I dead?" It felt like she was dead or well on her way there.

"You're not dead, Emily." Not literally, anyway.

"Hotch?" she questioned, her eyes still blurry and her mind foggy. Did Doyle get him too? "Doyle… Morgan…" She was remembering her last coherent moment before the blood loss pulled her into the dark.

"Morgan's fine."

"Doyle?"

His head turned away from her and she knew. They didn't get him, but she needed to hear him say it. She hadn't felt safe in a while now, but she needed him to confirm that she had valid reasons for feeling as she did in that moment. Terrified.

"Doyle?" She asked again.

"He got away."

"But…" But that was what she fought for. The whole purpose of everything was to make sure that she got him and could keep everyone safe. She was so close. She bought time… Why wasn't that enough? Why was nothing she did ever enough?

"It will be ok."

Would it? "Hospital?" She asked, assuming that was where she was. If she wasn't dead, she was recovering.

"Yeah. The surgeons were able to stop the bleeding." Great, so she was alive, and so was he. Doyle was still out there and she was in no position to fight.

She sighed, a deep penetrating feeling stabbing at her heart. "Where… everyone?"

"Home, I'd imagine." No one showed up for her? Is that what he was trying to say? Did she really screw up that badly? Did she hurt them so much that they didn't care if she lived or died?

"I…" It hit her. The way he was looking at her, all sad and with pity eyes. No one else was around. "Where am I?"

"Bethesda," he answered honestly and gave her the confirmation she needed. They were using her own tricks on her. She did it and had seen it done one too many times not to recognize it.

"No… No… I don't want to be dead." Emily's heartrate spiked. If he didn't calm her, the doctors would come in and send him away. Once he was out, he wasn't allowed back in.

"I know, Emily, but it's the only thing we can do to keep you safe."

"No, we can find him. We can get him. I didn't survive this just to be dead anyway." That, she thought, would probably feel worse than dying.

"Emily, please, just listen to me," he reached for her hand, mindful of the IV in it. "You nearly died. He… He escaped and he won't be easy to catch, but he'll be looking for you if he knows you're alive. Especially now, when you can't fight back."

"I can… I will."

"You can't, Emily. I want you to stay. The only thing I want less than faking your death, is you truly being dead. But, right now, those are our only options."

"No…" she cried, truly cried. There had to be something else. "No…"

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry." All he wanted to do was comfort her as she cried, to reach out and wrap his arms around her, but he couldn't. She was in no state to be jostled and his touch was likely to do more harm than good, especially then when he could see the hate simmering in her eyes.

/

With the news sinking in, Emily realized what it all meant. She'd be god knew where doing who knew what, all alone, living in the shadows for as long as it took to get the man from her nightmares. She failed, but not just herself. She put her team in danger, was making them mourn her death, and, not only that, but in a moment of taunting, she let Doyle know Declan was alive. He was in danger, too.

As much as she wanted to lash out at Hotch for making the decision for her, she realized she forced their hand. If she had told them sooner, if she did what she set out to do… If she got Doyle, none of this would have been happening. But she failed, and now they all had to live with that.

She made her bed, and now she had to lie in it. "When do I leave?"

"As soon as you're healed enough to travel."

"Can you promise to look out for everyone?"

"I promise, Emily."

"Don't let my death ruin the team. Make sure JJ knows I'm not mad at her." He looked surprised that she figured out the blonde had something to do with it. "Look out for Reid. He'll… He's going to take this hard. And keep an eye on Garcia and Morgan. Rossi…"

She didn't have to say anymore. "I will," he told her, pushing the stool closer to her. "Emily, I will do everything in my power to get you home as soon as possible. I promise, we'll get him."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Hotch. We may never see each other again, and you know that."

"I really don't want that to be the case. We're going to bring you home."

Cynically, she asked, "Before I really die?" She didn't actually want an answer, but she almost felt like this was the last goodbye. She was feeling like crap and, soon, she'd be somewhere living as someone new, probably feeling worse than crap. She might never see him again, and she was too aware of that.

"You're not going to die. You keep yourself safe and alive wherever you end up, and we'll hold up our end. We'll see each other again very soon."

"I hope so…" But a part of her doubted that very much. "I need you to do something for me," she told him.

"Anything."

"The team has each other. They'll have people to lean on. But… My mom has no one. My mom, she needs to know. I want you to tell her I'm dead. I know she can't know I'm still alive, but… She knows you. Just make sure she's ok."

/

He gave her some time to relax before he made the hard call a few hours later, right there with her by his side.

"Are you sure you want me to do this with you here?"

"Yes."

"Ok."

He was lucky her number was still in his contacts, alphabetically right before her daughter's because Emily was in no state to even conjure it up. Finding it, he hit send with Emily watching his every move.

"Ambassador Prentiss," she answered.

"Elizabeth, it's Aaron Hotchner." The line went quiet. Elizabeth was asking herself why he'd be calling. Why wasn't it Emily on the phone?

"What's going on, Aaron?"

"I have some news… About Emily…" He took a deep breath, long enough to allow both himself and Elizabeth time to prepare before he told her what he could. By the time he told his colleague's mother that she was stabbed, both women were in tears. Emily was grieving as much as everyone else was, and he was on the phone with a woman who was begging him to tell her that her daughter was ok. And he couldn't do that, not just for Emily's safety, but because Emily wasn't ok. Maybe she'd be ok physically in the long run, but who knew what this was going to do to her mentally. He hated having to lie, but he told himself it was for the best. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, her body couldn't handle the surgery. She," he gulped. "She didn't make it."

"She's dead?" Elizabeth cried, a desperate sound escaping her lips.

"I'm so sorry," he told her, his eyes locked with a weary Emily's. "We'll take care of everything. You don't have to do a thing. And if you need anything, Elizabeth, I'm here for you."

He consoled her as best he could, but the women just learned that her only child was murdered on the job, and he was the messenger. That didn't make him the best person to give her the comfort she needed. It was probably one of the hardest death notices he ever gave. At that point, he must've done a few dozen, but never like this. He knew she was alive, so he was lying, intentionally giving them heartbreaking news when all of it could be avoided.

By the time he hung up, Emily was a mess, but she was a trooper. She was doing her best to be strong, but her heart was breaking for all of them. She was going to miss them, and he was the only person he'd get to say goodbye to.

"Thank you…" Emily croaked out, using all her will to move her hand to her eyes and wipe away the tears. "I know it was… I needed to know she'd… Just thank you."

"You're welcome, Emily. You can…" He wanted to tell her that she could count on him, that she could come to him with whatever, whenever, and he'd be there, but he knew that wasn't a possibility. He couldn't give her that. But there was something. "You're going to be ok, and we'll get you home."

"I hope that you're right," but she had her doubts. She thought the life of lies and covers was over. Years later, and she was running from her past by being thrown back into it.

"I am. Rest now." He watched as the nurse came in and gave her something. While she was getting her wounds cleaned earlier, he was told that he needed to wrap their visit up. "When you wake up, I won't be here."

"Time to go?"

"Yes. Being here is putting us both at risk. We don't know where Doyle is or if he has eyes on us."

"I understand." But she didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to be alone. She didn't want to let go of the last piece of her old life. She had to, though, didn't she? "You should go. Find him, Aaron. Be safe… And the team… Take care of the team…" The sedative was quick to take effect and lull her to sleep, his hand gripping on to hers for the last few moments he could.

"It's time, Sir," he was told by the doctor. They wanted him to let go. He had to let her go so that she could be safe. The longer he stayed with her, the more compromised she was.

Reluctantly, he released her hand, and, as she drifted off, he couldn't help but think that, within the next few days, he'd be holding her coffin and witnessing as they put an empty box in a grave marked with her name. Emily Prentiss wasn't dead, but for now she had to be.

"Goodbye, Emily," he whispered. "I'll get you home." And he really hoped it'd be soon.

A few days later, as they placed roses on her coffin, he promised her they'd find Doyle. They'd make it safe for her to come home. Until then, he'd keep her alive in his heart, even if she was dead to everyone else.

"I… Be safe, Emily, and hang on."


End file.
